"Why aren't you at work today, Grandfather?"

"Even Gotei captains get the day off sometimes, you know. Your father needs to practice being in charge, you see, for when he's the captain."

"And I'm the lieutenant?" Byakuya asked eagerly.

"And you're the lieutenant," Grandfather agreed.

"What will you do then?" Byakuya wanted to practice his skipping, but skipping was a thing that could only be done at home. It was very special to be out on a walk with Grandfather, and he must do his best to be dignified.

"Well, then I suppose I will get every day off," Grandfather mused. "And I will spend my time with Grandmother, the way you do now."

Byakuya couldn't help it, he laughed at that, little snorty giggles escaping from his nose. It was too funny, thinking about Grandmother making Grandfather practice his handwriting or giving him a top to play with so she could chat with the other ladies at Garden Club.

They were headed down to Blue Stream Canal, to see the new public works project the Kidou Corps was constructing. Father was good friends with the lieutenant of the Kidou Corps, who had come to dinner recently and told them all about it. Water from the canal would spin a big turbine, which would produce a special kind of kidou that could go into a lamp and make light. According to Lieutenant Ushouda, someday, electricity would replace every oil lamp in the Seireitei. Byakuya got headaches from the smell of lamp oil, especially the cheap sardine oil they used in street lamps, and thought this was a brilliant idea. Grandfather was more skeptical, but he still wanted to see the turbine, so off they went on a crisp, early December morning.

"Grandson," said Grandfather, "How do you know we are going the right way?"

Byakuya didn't get to leave the family estate very often, and he was very eager to prove that he knew the tricks for finding his way around the baffling reticulations of the Seireitei's streets. "You said that it was near the eastern gate," Byakuya announced proudly. "We live in the southern part of the city. I've been watching and since Soukyoku Hill has been mostly to the left, we are going counterclockwise, which is the right way!"

"Very good, Byakuya!" Grandfather nodded, his eyes twinkling proudly. "How are your feet doing? We've walked quite a way. You must be getting tired, eh?"

"No, Grandfather!" Byakuya insisted. "Grandmother and I go walking every day! I never get tired!"

"How about cold?"

"I'm not cold, either," Byakuya lied. Grandmother had made him wear his heavy hanten, which he despised because it had stupid looking cross-eyed kittens printed on it. Nevertheless, he was glad to have it now, and had his hands surreptitiously pulled up into the sleeves.

"Your nose and ears are awfully red," Grandfather pointed out.

"Perhaps," Byakuya sniffed. "What I meant was, the cold doesn't bother me."

"Ah, I see!" Grandfather agreed. "Unfortunately, Grandmother will scold me if you come home without your nose because it froze clear off." In a graceful movement, Grandfather swept the scarf from around his neck and twirled it around Byakuya's own.

Byakuya was struck speechless. He'd been allowed to touch the scarf only a handful of times, but he loved it. It was so soft and light, as though it had been spun from clouds and starlight. It wasn't designed for warmth, but it cut the wind that had been biting at his cheeks and chin. "Grandfather, I can't wear your scarf!" he protested. "It's against the rules!"

"Oh, there are so many rules, Byakuya," Grandfather reassured him. "It takes a long time to learn all of them. So you probably don't know that it's okay for other people to wear the windflower scarf in the case of emergencies, like cold noses."

"Cold noses aren't emergencies," Byakuya grumbled, burying his fingers into the material of the scarf. He never wanted to stop touching it.

"I'm the clan head, and I decide what's an emergency," Grandfather declared, patting him gently on the head. He studied Byakuya for a moment. "You make a very fine Kuchiki, my grandson."

Byakuya frowned. "What else would I be?"

Grandfather laughed. "An excellent point. We are a very old and venerated family, the Kuchiki. Some of us are born to the name, like you and I, but sometimes, when we find someone special, like your marvelous grandmother, we bring them in through marriage or adoption. We keep certain traditions- this scarf, the kenseikan, our service to the Gotei- that tie us back to our ancestors. All Kuchiki are linked, past and present, no matter how we joined the family. It is not enough just to carry the name of the great founders of our clan. It is our duty to behave as they did, to act nobly and perform great deeds. That is the pride of the Kuchiki."

Byakuya liked that idea. He liked the idea of being connected to the great warriors and sages Grandmother taught him about during his history lessons. "I am going to be the very best Kuchiki!" he announced. "You'll see, Grandfather!"

Ginrei chuckled. "I don't doubt it."


Byakuya was certain that Rukia noticed the slim box wrapped in gold silk the second she sat down for breakfast. She made no mention of it, though, instead enquiring about his evening. Byakuya assumed she was waiting for everyone to arrive, but she continued to coolly ignore it even after Shizue sleepily took her seat.

It was quite amusing, in Byakuya's opinion, the way she continued to chat merrily with him over the course of the meal, acting completely oblivious to the way everyone's eyes kept darting to her gift.

"Granddaughter," Ginrei finally complained. "You're keeping us all in dire suspense. Are you going to open your present or not?"

Rukia looked down at it, and blinked in feigned surprise. "Oh, is this for me?"

"You already know what it is," Byakuya replied off-handedly. "You needn't open it, if you don't care to."

Ginrei groaned and Shizue looked desperate.

Sugita looked deeply confused. "What is it, then?"

"Oh, Brother, you're such a tease! I could never be so patient!" Rukia replied in the mildest tone of voice possible.

The table collectively let out the breath they had been holding as she began to delicately undo the wrappings. Byakuya's heart felt incredibly full. Truly, his sister was the funniest person he knew.

He was sure the expression on her face was completely genuine, though, when she lifted the lid of the box. It has seemed such a straightforward gift. She had been so specific. He had merely fulfilled her request. He wasn't sure what touched her so about what was, essentially, work equipment, but he felt his own chest go tight when he saw the softness in her eyes.

"Brother, they are so beautiful!" Rukia exclaimed, her voice rough with emotion. She ran her thumbs over the white leather tekkou. "I can't believe how soft they are!"

"That is the nature of fine leather," Byakuya said, pretending that he was more interested in his breakfast. "Please have your maid consult my valet regarding their cleaning and maintenance."

Rukia briefly considered both wrist guards, then pulled the longer one onto her left arm, hitching up her sleeve and pulling the inner laces tight. "It fits perfectly!" she announced.

"Very handsome, Granddaughter," Ginrei nodded. "Although I'll tell you what I told your brother- black is more practical."

"I have no intention of going into battle looking practical, Grandfather," Rukia replied grandly.

Aunt Tsukasa gave a snorty little laugh, and glanced sidelong at Byakuya. He raised an eyebrow back at her.

"You look so elegant, Cousin Rukia!" Shizue sighed. "Oh, look, they have little snowflakes!"

Ginrei leaned over toward Byakuya as the girls cooed over the detail work on the gloves. "I don't suppose you have a few moments after breakfast, Grandson? There's something I need to discuss with you."

At first, Byakuya was a little surprised at this rather abrupt change in mood, but then he noticed the way Ginrei's eyes dwelled on Shizue, and he had a slight inkling what this might be about.

His suspicions were confirmed half an hour later, as he and Ginrei set off into the gardens, practically down the same route he had walked with Rukia the previous evening.

"I had a talk with Shizue last night," Grandfather said, his voice grim.

Byakuya frowned. "Has she come to a decision about her future?"

"She has an opinion. Her father is the one who gets to make decisions. And you, as Clan Head, have the prerogative of influencing that decision."

"I believe you have some amount of influence on the parties involved, as well."

"Perhaps."

"I take it you do not care for the opinion she expressed. Is it young Ohno? It is true that Itsurou has been trying to undermine us for years, but all the more reason to mend relations with his son, whose worst crime is honestly just being tedious-"

"She wants to go to the Academy."

Byakuya trailed off. "Come again?"

"She wishes to become a shinigami and join the Gotei. Apparently."

Byakuya stared at his grandfather, uncomprehending. "She brought this up? She asked you?"

Ginrei sighed. "You saw her play tennis, Byakuya. Her talent is incredible, but she's bored of it. She is too brilliant. She should have been born a boy. I have struggled to find something that would catch her interest and hold it." Ginrei paused. "Your sister," he said, "appears to have caught her interest."

Byakuya contemplated this. Rukia was elegant, witty and charming. She was also independent and outspoken and had humiliated Ohno Isao in a swordfight by losing. "One could hardly blame her," Byakuya mused.

"Byakuya, I am serious."

"So am I," Byakuya replied. "Let her enroll. I think it is a excellent idea."

Ginrei stopped dead in his tracks. "What if it turns out to be whimsy? What if she quits before a semester is out?"

"She would hardly be the first young noble to do so. From everything you have told me of her, I have a hard time believing she would give in so easily. The Gotei is not for everyone, true, but there is much value in education. I think that she could learn much from the Academy, both about her spiritual powers and about herself, whether or not she ends up in service."

"We have already received several marriage offers for her!" Ginrei tacked swiftly. Byakuya honestly couldn't tell if his grandfather was playing devil's advocate or arguing with him in earnest.

"If you truly question her readiness to make decisions about her future, then I think an engagement is certainly premature," Byakuya pointed out. "I have no qualms about informing her suitors that we have elected to put things off."

"The Ohno will be outraged."

"I would phrase it as merely deferring the decision, not taking her off the market entirely. I have long struggled to impress upon the extended family how highly I value our commitment to the Gotei. This is a prime opportunity for the branch families to show that they agree. Shizue is surely better off to avoid marrying someone who is offended by her ambition. Further, her time in school should give her a chance to acclimate to city life and become more savvy to clan politics before committing to a particular branch. I think that Rukia is quite fond of her, and she would be welcome to visit us at the Manor whenever her schedule permits." The more he contemplated this plan, the more he liked it. Obviously, everyone who had put in an offer on her hand would be absolutely incensed, he had no illusions about that, but for once, he was the one with the moral high ground, and he intended to fully enjoy his lofty perch.

"What will you do then, Grandson, if she actually graduates and wishes to join the Court Guards?"

"Offer her a position in the Sixth, presumably? If she wishes to marry at that time, it can be arranged. If she does not, I am not about to force a husband upon her."

Grandfather stared at him long and hard. "You are serious. You would allow it."

"I have never shared your reservations about women serving in the Gotei, Grandfather. She is not an asset, she is a member of our family. It is for the pride of the Kuchiki that we lend out strength to the Gotei, and she has as much a right to that pride as her brother."

"You told me, years ago, that you had forbidden Juushirou to grant Rukia a seat in the Thirteenth. Now she is the Assistant Captain. What changed?"

"Do you think I was wrong to allow it?"

"I didn't say that."

"When I adopted Rukia," Byakuya said slowly, "it was in order to protect and provide for her, not to demand things of her." He frowned. "I did not know Rukia very well, then. I have since learned that she takes pride, not in her name, but in her actions. She worked hard to make me understand that."

Ginrei was quiet for a long, irritating moment. "Funny thing, then, that she has managed to bring honor to the family despite herself. The only thing I've heard all week is how proud I should be of her."

"My soft-hearted vice-captain would probably have something to say about the great heights a person might reach when allowed to follow their own path. Personally, I think Rukia is simply an exceptional woman, matchless in all of Soul Society."

"But you would let Shizue follow her own path?"

"Yes, well, Abarai was also very impressed with her swordsmanship. His judgment tends to be much more sound on those sorts of matters."

"You're sure he wasn't just polishing the truth because she's your cousin?"

"He certainly never has before, I don't see any reason he should start now."

Ginrei shook his head. "The poor girl's mother is going to be very confused, and her brother is going to be absolutely livid, but maybe it'll motivate the little hotshot to up his game."

"Then you... agree with my decision?" Byakuya asked, his brows furrowing.

"I couldn't make up my mind," Ginrei shrugged. "I have raised so many children for duty. I thought I would get one I could just love. I hate the idea of putting her in danger, but I hate the idea of denying her spark even more. That's why I made you decide."

"I see," Byakuya replied dryly.

"But I liked hearing your reasoning," Ginrei went on, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smile. "You've become a thoughtful clan head, Grandson. I'm very proud of you."

Byakuya's eyes widened. "The last time you visited, you accused me of being the death of the clan for not having remarried or named an Heir! Nothing has changed since then!"

"That is patently false," Ginrei replied. "You have changed. You were marking time before. Maintaining a sinking ship. I don't know if it was the war or that new lieutenant or whatever you and Rukia sorted out between yourselves, but you're different, Byakuya. You're looking to the future again. I still think you should get remarried sooner rather than later, but I have faith that you're doing what you think is best."

Byakuya was practically struck speechless. He imagined this is what Abarai felt like at the times when all the blood fell out of his body. Byakuya's brain scrabbled for something to say. "Well, you have changed, too, Grandfather!"

Ginrei gave a mild snort. "It's taken a long time to shed the mantle of clan head. I think that seeing you happy and healthy like this has helped me cast off the last of it."

"No, actually, I think it is the new boyfriend," Byakuya replied.

All of the color drained from Ginrei's face. "How- who- It was Tsukasa, wasn't it?"

Byakuya raised an eyebrow. "I have eyes, Grandfather."

Ginrei sputtered wordlessly for a moment, his mustache twitching.

Truly, Byakuya had never felt so satisfied in his entire life. "I am very happy for you, Grandfather. He seems like a kind man. I do wish you had not felt the need to be secretive. You have put us both in a very awkward position and I feel that I may not have extended an appropriate welcome. It was very inconsiderate of you, to be honest."

"I wasn't being secretive," Ginrei grumbled. "That's just how we went about things in my day! Discreetly."

"Were you? Being discreet?"

"Well, somewhat discreetly. I live in the country, Byakuya. You have to act a little fishy so the neighbors have something to gossip about. You young people, always wanting to be public with your affairs. It's so boring."

"I do not have affairs," Byakuya pointed out.

"I know. I had big hopes for the lieutenant, but he clearly only has eyes for…" Ginrei trailed off suddenly. "Did you hear something?"

"You thought I was dating Abarai?" Byakuya sputtered.

"Byakuya," Ginrei said, squinting at the tea roses. "I think there's something in the bushes."

"It is just a rabbit. Do not change the subject! He is my subordinate, I would never-"

"It's not a rabbit, it's a someone!"

"Grandfather, really, the house guard would have-"

Suddenly, Byakuya felt the reiatsu. His blood ignited.

It was definitely not a rabbit.


Rukia flipped back through the pictures on her phone, while Mikan combed camellia seed oil into her hair. She zoomed in and rotated the picture a little. "Here, you can see it pretty well in this one!" she announced, holding her phone up.

Mikan paused in her combing, leaning over Rukia's shoulder. She had already sufficiently gushed over Rukia's new tattoo, so Rukia had decided to make her look at Renji's as well.

"Oh, I love it!" Mikan gasped. "The colors are gorgeous!"

"I know," Rukia agreed.

Mikan studied the picture critically. "You know, not every gentleman could pull off a floral tattoo like that, but, um…"

"I know," Rukia repeated. She had given up on trying to keep Mikan from referring to all her shinigami friends as "gentlemen" and "ladies."

"Maybe it's the other tattoos," Mikan pondered. "Or the biceps."

"I think it's his entire deal, actually," Rukia replied. She had already considered this extensively, mostly while she watched him get the tattoo, but she had continued to contemplate it on and off. She had also been wondering if, as they got into summer, he might start favoring sleeveless clothes in his downtime. It wasn't the popular style in the Seireitei, but she could hardly remember him ever covering his arms in their youth. She'd certainly appreciated the view of his bare shoulders in those days, and they'd gotten exponentially better since.

"Do you think you could, um, zoom out?" Mikan asked, very sweetly.

"Oh, sure," Rukia obliged. "This picture is a little silly," she admitted.

"Ohhhhh!" Mikan gasped. "I love it when you two do poses!"

"We're not doing poses," Rukia clarified, frowning at the picture. "He's got a big, dumb smile on his face. It's not a pose if one of us is smiling." She had to admit, it was one of their better pictures, possibly because they were both sober, or possibly because Tenryuu had taken it. They were each flexing their bicep, trying to show off their new ink, but Renji's dumb arms were so big, plus the fact that they had to flex opposite arms meant they'd had to do some finagling to get everything in the shot. As it happened, she had actually ended up sitting in Renji's lap, which would have actually been very nice if it hadn't been so embarrassing. The final picture had come out very cool, though and Tenryuu had sworn on her hair dye that she would never tell. "It is kind of cute, though," she admitted grudgingly. "That dummy'll probably have it framed and hanging in his living room by the next time I go over there."

Mikan gave a rueful little laugh. Rukia glanced up at her maid's face in the mirror. There was a definite wistfulness around Mikan's eyes as she expertly massaged oil into Rukia's scalp.

"What's that look for?" Rukia demanded.

"Hmm?" Mikan blinked.

"I tell you he doesn't mind when I call him a dummy! He likes it, actually!"

"Oh, it wasn't that!" Mikan shook her head. "It's... nothing."

"You can tell me what you think," Rukia insisted. Mikan was the first maid she'd ever had that she felt like she could talk to, but she still hadn't managed to convince the girl that she wasn't going to get fired for being too personal.

"Well," Mikan said slowly. "I just think it's really nice that you have a friend that likes you as much as Lieutenant Abarai does. You've been telling me about him for a while, but when he came by the Manor this week, he was so professional and polite, except that other people always talk about how rough and tumble he is. I was just thinking about how there seems to be a lot of sides to him, and you're probably the only person he shows some of them to. I bet you're the only person he smiles like that for." Mikan's cheeks had been turning steadily pinker as she talked. "Anyway, it just makes my heart feel very warm and squishy to think about, don't mind me."

"Mikan…" Rukia said, although she was otherwise at a loss for words. It occurred to her, all of a sudden, that she had never actually admitted to anyone how she felt about Renji. The closest she had ever come was begrudgingly admitting to Chad once that she was "into him," and that was back when she was still trying to convince herself that it was a harmless crush that would eventually run its course. Hanatarou probably knew, and Orihime, too, but she hadn't told them, which, at that exact moment, seemed like a horrible oversight. Rukia thought she was a pretty good friend when it came to helping out other people, but she was pretty crummy at the part where she shared herself with others. Even Byakuya had managed to open up to her about his awkward Grandfather feelings. "Actually…" she started slowly, trying to work her way up to it. "Well… the thing is…"

There was a soft rap at the door. Mikan set the comb down on the dressing table. "Hold that thought, miss." She gave an exasperated sigh and grumbled, "I told them not to disturb you unless it was an emergency."

Rukia took a deep breath, trying to think about what she wanted to say.

"He is nice, isn't he?"

"I absolutely don't deserve him, eh? Well, here's a funny story for you…"

"I know I act like an ungrateful jerk whenever I talk about him, but it's because I'm absolutely terrified by how many feelings I have about him. He's the best thing that ever happened to me, and that's kind of a big deal, taking into account all the things that have happened to me."

Rukia took a deep breath and tried to focus on the mild, calming aroma of the camellia seed oil. Funny stuff, just as good for oiling swords as for conditioning hair. Very appropriate flower for Squad Six, in her opinion, or at very least, its leadership.

Mikan returned, her face pale. "Lady Rukia. It is an emergency."


Four minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, Rukia strode through the corridors of Kuchiki Manor like a 144-centimeter battle frigate in a flowered kimono.

"There's a Gotei captain here. Asking for you."

"Not Brother?"

"No. You, specifically."

"Which Squad?"

"Saejima didn't say. He did say he is very, very large."

"Is he a wolf?"

"Is he a-? Saejima didn't say."

No, Rukia knew who it was. His reiatsu was spilling out all over the house. Apparently, Byakuya and Ginrei were off walking down at the far end of the property, thank goodness. Rukia sent a message to have Saejima escort the visitor down to the peony garden. She threw on a simple, but pretty outfit, in the hopes that maybe he wouldn't try to fight her if she looked nice.

Rukia stepped outside, trying to pretend her hair wasn't still wet.

Zaraki Kenpachi, the most feared man in the Gotei, was sitting on her porch, trying to get comfortable on a lavender silk zabuton, and clearly failing. A look of minor relief washed over his face at her appearance. "Yo! Kuchiki!" he boomed.

"Good morning, Captain Zaraki," she greeted with a bow. "Welcome to our home. May I offer you some refreshment?"

Zaraki scratched his cheek. "You mean tea, right? I don't drink that crap."

The difference, in Rukia's opinion, between etiquette and hospitality, was that etiquette would never allow her to serve alcohol at ten in the morning. Hospitality, on the other hand, meant being flexible in order to make her guest feel welcome. "Would you prefer sake?" she asked.

The corner of Zaraki's mouth curled up. "Yeah, I'll take some of that!"

"Go fetch a bottle of Sleeping Tiger," Rukia murmured to Mikan. She and Renji had agreed that one tasted almost exactly like being punched in the nose, and based on every story Renji had ever told her about drinking at Squad 11, she assumed that would go over well.

Rukia settled herself on the cushion opposite him. "What can I do for you, Captain?"

Zaraki blew his cheeks full of air and clapped his hands on his knees. If Rukia thought that anything about normal body language could be applied to the Kenpachi, she might almost think he was nervous. "I think I mighta messed up."

It took every bit of control Rukia had learned as a Kuchiki to keep her face in a pleasantly smiling mask. "How so?" she managed.

Mikan set a tray containing a sake set between them, two cups already poured. There was a small platter of hanami dango next to the cups, which Rukia assumed Mikan had cadged from the party preparations.

"Oh, great!" Zaraki grinned, picking up a cup and taking a sip. He blinked. "Dang, you rich people got good stuff!"

Rukia picked up her own cup, but she couldn't bring herself to take a sip yet. "You were saying, Captain Zaraki?"

"Ah, right! Well, you know your brother and me don't get along so good."

"I was aware," Rukia replied in a measured tone.

"So, when he invited me to this party that I guess is happening tonight, I figured he was doin' it to be… what's the thing Ayasegawa does? Where he's mad, but he's just a jerk instead of yelling?"

"Passive-aggressive?" Rukia guessed.

"Yeah, that's it! Anyway, the whole thing sounded stuffy and boring to me, so I figured I would just skip it, and told Madarame and Ayasegawa they could go instead. But I was sparrin' with my Sixth Seat yesterday- I guess she's a friend o' yours? Hirata?"

Rukia perked up. "She is! I was the one who suggested she try out for your squad, you know!"

"Yeah, that's what she said! Thanks for that! We been short on good people lately. You got any other noble lady friends who are as good as her with a naginata and wanna piss off their families, feel free to send 'em my way."

"She is sort of one of a kind, but I'll keep that in mind," Rukia promised.

"Right, well, Hirata set me straight, she said this thing was for you, that it was sort of a big deal." Zaraki took another long draw of his sake. Having sensed that this was not going in the terrifying direction she had initially suspected, Rukia chanced a tiny sip of her own. Her eyes immediately started watering. "I don't put much stock in all this captain and lieutenant and numbering people crap," Zaraki went on. "I mean, I guess it's kinda useful for figuring out who's good to fight, but someone's strong, people figure it out, right? Some of the best guys I've ever had, I lost when they went off to be lieutenants. A waste, in my opinion, taking a strong guy like Iba or Abarai and makin' 'em go to meetings and sign papers." Zaraki narrowed his eyes philosophically. "But I also know how bad those guys wanted it, and how wanting it made 'em work to get as strong as they are. I don't really get it, but I figure it must've meant a lot to you, too. I didn't mean to be a jerk about that. Congratulations."

Rukia's mouth gaped open, just a bit. "Thank you, sir," she replied softly. "You know, if you'd like. you can still come to the party, it's not a problem."

Zaraki snorted. "I'll pass. This sake's pretty good, but not worth gettin' dressed up over."

Rukia leaned forward. "You're absolutely correct," she said in a conspiratorial whisper.

"But speakin' of invitations, I was askin' Madarame if this was just, y'know, one of those things where you got a promotion just for being noble, and he says you're pretty hot stuff, actually. In fact... " Zaraki sat up a little straighter and, to Rukia's horror, the air began to fizz with his reiatsu, "I only fight one-on-one, personally, but I heard a rumor that you and Abarai are a pair of monsters when you fight together. I'd like to see that. I'd make an exception for that."

"Who did you hear that from?" Rukia squeaked. Her brain was scrabbling for answers and the only thing it could come up with was either Renji himself, which seemed unlikely, Akon, which seemed even more unlikely or Yoruichi. Did Zaraki even know Yoruichi? Did they hang out?

Zaraki made a grin, white and toothy. "It's true, then?"

"We-elll…" Rukia hedged.

"A-hem."

"HEY, KENNY!"

Rukia clutched her cup so hard her knuckles whitened. Slowly, her eyes slid over to the side. She hadn't realized how badly sitting three feet from the Kenpachi had overwhelmed her reiatsu sense.

Standing on the lawn before them was Byakuya. And Ginrei. And tucked firmly under Byakuya's arm was a squirming, manic Yachiru. Her pink hair was adorned with a fluffy flower crown made from what looked suspiciously like Byakuya's grandmother's prize roses.

"Is that dango? Is it your dango, Kenny? Are you going to eat it? Can I have it?"

"Yo, Kuchiki!" Zaraki replied amiably. "Old Kuchiki! Good to see you, too!"

"Captain Zaraki," Byakuya bit off. "It seems you have misplaced this."


"Who is buzzing? Is that me or you?"

Renji squinted judgmentally at the cuticle of his right ring finger for a moment before putting aside his manicure stick and glancing over at the phones lined up on Yumichika and Ikkaku's kitchen table. "It's yours. It's Shuuhei."

Yumichika made an exasperated sound in his throat. He was currently in the middle of shaving Ikkaku's head with a straight razor. "Go ahead and see what he's done to himself."

"Why does Abarai get to use your phone?" Ikkaku whined. "I'm not allowed to touch your phone."

"Unlike Abarai, who keeps the dark secrets of the entire Soul Society in the depths of his incomprehensible text message history, and you, who use yours to house a massive archive of photographs of your own penis-"

"Heh. 'Massive'."

"Yes. Well. My spirit phone is for sharing my hard-worn cosmetic expertise with the desperate, filthy pilgrims who prostrate themselves before me. You may have taught Abarai how to do bankai, but I taught him how to be beautiful."

"Are you telling me you don't keep the pictures of my dick that I send you?"

"I keep the best ones." Yumichika cleared his throat. "Abarai, regale us with Hisagi's woes."

"'Halp, I think I have put too much hair gel in my hair,'" Renji read aloud, being sure to pronounce the typo. " 'I am going… to need… photographic evidence'," he said in his best Yumichika voice as he tapped out a response.

"I don't know why Shuuhei doesn't just text you," Yumichika sniffed, shaking some lather into the bowl next to him. "You'd be nicer to him from your own phone."

"Iba texted me this morning to ask what you put in your lemon facial scrub," Renji replied proudly.

"He texted you 'cause he knew Yumi would tell him to blow it out his ass," Ikkaku scoffed. "He's too good to come over here for makeovers, now, apparently."

Yumichika rolled his eyes; it was pretty obvious which one of them was madder at Iba.

"I think he's too busy helping his captain deep condition his fur," Renji excused.

"You're just a soft touch as usual, Abarai."

"I don't want that guy showing up at Rukia's party, lookin' oily!" Renji protested. "Also, I owed him a favor," he added under his breath. There was another buzz from the table. "Whoops, I got an incoming from Rangiku!" He grabbed his own phone, and flicked over to his texts. "Ha ha ha! I can't believe he actually let her do it! Check this out!" He held the phone so Yumichika could see it over Ikkaku's shoulder.

"Oh, that's not half bad!" Yumichika exclaimed, a note of delight in his voice.

In the photograph, Rangiku beamed from over the shoulder of a very dour-looking Captain Hitsugaya. Hitsugaya's hair looked like someone had just spent a long time explaining in scientific terms how gravity worked, and it was considering, but not completely sold on the idea. The change was small, but the improvement, dramatic. His hair looked softer, more natural. Rangiku had combed some of it forward, hiding his stubborn cowlick in a mass of floppy, side-swept bangs. It gave him a certain teen idol appeal that Renji suspected was going to give just the right amount of rebellious contrast to his traditional formalwear.

"Did the little twerp finally hit puberty?" Ikkaku blurted out. "Good on him!"

"It is the magic of facial framing, my dearest," Yumichika said dryly. "Not everyone can count on their magnificent jaw structure the way you do."

"Tell him I said he looks hot," Ikkaku demanded.

"Absolutely not," Renji replied, constructing an elaborate string of emoji that he felt Rangiku would appreciate. "He's already on the fence. We gotta nurture his confidence in his looks, not be frigging weird about it."

"Soft touch," Ikkaku and Yumichika chorused in unison.

"Dude's a captain, have some respect," Renji mumbled into his phone.

"Tell him I think it's working for him," Yumichika sighed in his most off-hand manner.

Renji and Ikkaku exchanged raised eyebrows. It looked pretty funny, since both their faces were slathered with thick masks of Yumichika's favorite avocado-oatmeal moisturizing formula.

"Maybe I'm turning into a soft touch, too," Yumichika said vaguely, looking off in the direction of one of his houseplants.

"Maybe you should pay attention to what you're doing," Renji suggested, relaying the message. He was only part way through, when his phone buzzed again. He stared at the notification in disbelief for a moment. "What fresh Hell could this be?" he mumbled.

"Who's bothering you now?" Yumichika asked. He had finished up with Ikkaku's shave and was now rubbing his scalp vigorously with a towel. Ikkaku was pretending to not enjoy this, but it looked pretty fun to Renji.

"Oh, it's one of my subordinates," Renji explained. "But the guy has never once sent me a message I wanted to get. I cannot imagine what the problem is. The captain literally gave everyone who wasn't on critical duty the day off so we could go to this party."

"Really?" Ikkaku frowned. "Maybe being in Squad Six is cooler than I thought."

"It definitely is not. All you have to do over here is train people and break up fights. You would not believe some of the problems I have to solve." He finished up his text to Rangiku, trying to ignore the fact that more notifications were piling up, then flipped over to see what Third Seat Ohno wanted.

"Vice-Captain Abarai," the first of a long chain of messages began. Even the guy's texts read like a memo. "I have given serious consideration to your suggestion and I have decided to take the course of action you advised. My understanding is that the individual whom I have wronged will be in attendance this afternoon. You extended your assistance in this matter, and I humble myself by taking you up on this offer. Can you tell me how to do whatever it is you do with your eye makeup that makes them look very pointy at the outer edges? You may not be aware of this, but that particular look elicits many positive reactions amongst the female members of the squad."

Renji squinted, uncomprehending, at his phone for a moment.

"Pretty bad, eh?" Ikkaku guessed. "One of your new guys fall into a Hollow execution pit or something?"

"Yeaaaah…" Renji drew out, grabbing a washcloth and starting to wipe off his facemask. "I'll be back real quick, but I think I gotta go take care of this in person."

"You can't just walk him through whatever it is over the phone?" Yumichika suggested.

"Nah, it's really important and it needs an expert touch." He tossed the washcloth back on the table. "But that's the job of a vice-captain, eh?"